Primal
by picascribit
Summary: Sometimes need can take you by surprise. Missing scene from Deathly Hallows. RWxHG. First time, nonexplicit sex, violence.


Somewhere on the other side of the wall, Hermione was screaming. They had _taken_ her - taken her and promised her to that _beast_, and the best and worst and only thing he could hope for was that they would let him see her mauled and broken body before they killed him, too.

"HERMIONE!" he shouted, pounding at the wall with his fists, mindless with fear. "HERMIONE!"

Her screams lanced through him like physical pain. She was gone - raped - dead - and he had not been able to protect her.

* * *

"Give her to me," Greyback whined to the tall, pitiless woman. "I caught her. What need have the Ministry for one more Mudblood? When you're done with her, give her to me to play with."

"You'll have your turn at her, Fenrir," the woman promised. "But do it outside. We don't want her filthy blood on the carpets."

The werewolf grinned, baring his pointed teeth. "You're mine," he crooned to the girl, huddled on the floor. "And when the next full moon rises, the last thing you will feel will be me changing inside you before I rip your throat out."

"There will be time for that later," Bellatrix said impatiently. "Tell me, girl. Tell me where you got that sword. _Crucio!_"

The screams seemed too large for her body. They clawed at her throat as they fought their way out of her. She knew she was dead, but still she fought, sticking to the lie of the sword without remembering why it was important, knowing only that they must not lose sight of the silver blade, or all would be lost.

* * *

Snatching the wand Harry threw to him out of midair, Ron threw himself to the floor, covering Hermione's unconscious body with his own, wrapping his arms around her, and Apparating them the hell away from there.

They were lying on cool grass, with the smell of salt on the air and quiet all around them. She was so still, so cold.

"Hermione," he whispered hoarsely. "Don't be dead. Please don't."

"Ron!" called a voice he dimly recognised as if from another lifetime.

Bill was shaking him roughly by the shoulder. He could see Fleur's pale face beyond him, brow wrinkled with concern.

"Ron, what happened? Is Hermione okay?"

Ron looked into his brother's scarred face and summoned the one word he thought they might understand. "Greyback."

Fleur reached impulsively to touch her husband's shoulder. Her eyes met Ron's, full of understanding. "Get her into ze 'ouse," she said grimly. "Our bedroom. Care for her."

* * *

Someone was carrying her. Everything hurt. And then, mercifully, there was the yielding softness of a bed under her, pillows behind her head. Someone was lying beside her, gripping her hand too tightly. A warm mouth pressed against her cold fingers, and hot tears slid over her knuckles.

"Hermione," he murmured, voice rough with a despair that wrenched at her heart.

She tried to say his name, but her throat was torn and swollen from screaming. Muscles trembling with effort, she squeezed his fingers.

* * *

He felt the small pressure of her fingers on his, and looked up to see that her eyes were open. That was when the shaking started. Sobs wracked his body as he gathered her into his arms, pressing his mouth against her face and neck, breathing her scent, hands caressing her body, just to be certain she was really all there.

"Oh, _God!_ Hermione, I thought I'd lost you. Please," he sobbed. "Please, I need you."

She was weak as a new kitten from her ordeal, but he saw his need reflected in her eyes. It was a compulsion - a need to join, to prove to themselves that they were alive, after all, and had not lost one another. Never had either of them felt anything so overwhelmingly instinctive, and they gave themselves to it without question.

The need that drove them ran deeper than sexual desire. There was no thought of what they did as being something new; it was eternal - primal. Clothing was torn out in desperation and she was open to him and he was inside her and they saw only each other's faces and felt only fierce relief in the warmth of one another's flesh as their hearts pounded together.

She was whole, present, alive, _his_, and only together could they hold back the darkness that threatened to consume them.


End file.
